Sun, Sea & Spreadsheets: How I Turn My Summer Holiday into a Cycling Tour Recon

Lesvos, Chios & Turkey – researching the next Greek Cycle Holidays adventure the hard way

There are two ways to spend a summer holiday in Greece.

The sensible way involves finding a nice beach, ordering a cold beer, putting your phone on silent and doing absolutely nothing until somebody suggests dinner.

Then there’s my way.

Every summer I somehow manage to convince myself that I can combine a holiday with “a little bit of work”. And by a little bit of work, I apparently mean loading the van, taking the dog, catching several ferries, driving hundreds of kilometres, inspecting hotels, checking roads, looking at restaurants, investigating ferry ports and repeatedly stopping at junctions while wondering: “Would I really send 20 cyclists down there?”

Welcome to the glamorous world of tour reconnaissance.

This year's mission: Across the Aegean

This summer's recon trip has taken me through Lesvos, across to Turkey and eventually on to Chios, researching what I hope will become one of our most interesting Greek Cycle Holidays tours yet: Across the Aegean.

The idea is to create a cycling journey that doesn't simply hop from one attractive place to another, but tells a story.

Lesvos and Chios sit just a few kilometres from the Turkish coast, and for thousands of years the communities on either side of the Aegean have traded, fought, travelled, migrated, cooked, drank and generally interfered with one another's lives.

Ancient Greeks lived along what is now the Turkish coast. Great Greek and Roman cities flourished there. The Ottoman Empire ruled the Greek islands for centuries. Then came wars, population exchanges and new borders.

Today you can sit drinking coffee on Lesvos and quite literally look across at Turkey.

So why not cycle across that history?

The holiday/recon compromise

Of course, I still insist this is a holiday.

My definition of holiday has simply become slightly questionable.

A normal holiday morning might involve waking up, deciding which beach to visit and discussing where to have lunch.

A recon morning involves opening Ride with GPS, checking a route, looking at the temperature and announcing to nobody in particular:

“I just want to check this road.”

Three hours later I'm 90 kilometres away, halfway up a mountain, following a road that Google insists exists but which is rapidly turning into something more suitable for goats.

This is actually one of the most important parts of designing our tours.

A route can look fantastic on a computer screen. Lovely winding road. Quiet countryside. Beautiful coastline.

Then you actually visit it.

Suddenly you discover the “quiet country road” has become a gravel track.

Or it contains a climb that might cause half the group to murder the tour organiser.

Or the beautiful coastal road has spectacular views but also Turkish lorries travelling past at Mach 2.

That's why, wherever possible, I want to see the roads myself before I put our guests on them.

our home from home

Lesvos: considerably bigger than it looks

First stop was Lesvos.

One thing becomes obvious very quickly: Lesvos is big.

This isn't an island where you cycle around the corner, have a coffee and accidentally arrive back at your hotel.

For cyclists, that's actually good news.

There are mountains, forests, olive groves, volcanic landscapes, long coastal roads and wonderfully traditional villages. One day you're riding beside the sea; the next you're climbing through completely different scenery.

Places like Molyvos, Eresos, Kalloni and Plomari give the tour natural overnight stops and, equally importantly, plenty of opportunities for the other essential part of my research:

Eating.

Because a cycling tour cannot survive on GPX files alone.

Restaurants must be investigated.

Tavernas must be tested.

Local wine must occasionally be sampled.

I take this responsibility extremely seriously.

tough job but somebody has to do it !

Lesbos - the home of ouzo

Then things get interesting: Turkey

From Lesvos, the route crosses the Aegean to Ayvalık.

And this is where the tour begins to feel like a genuine journey rather than simply another island cycling holiday.

Ayvalık has beautiful old streets, excellent food and the island of Cunda just offshore. But more importantly for our story, this entire coastline is filled with layers of Greek, Ottoman and Turkish history.

From Ayvalık we head inland towards Pergamon.

Pergamon was one of the great cities of the ancient world, with temples, theatres, libraries and one of the most spectacular ancient acropolises anywhere around the Aegean.

There is something rather special about arriving somewhere like this by bicycle.

You don't simply appear outside an archaeological site after two hours on a coach.

You've travelled through the landscape that connects these places.

For me, that's what cycle touring does better than almost any other form of travel.

Pergamon - Turkey

The important scientific research continues

Naturally, travelling through Turkey also required extensive investigation into local cuisine.

Pide had to be tested.

Gözleme required examination.

Turkish breakfasts needed careful analysis.

Baklava obviously couldn't be ignored.

And somebody had to determine whether an ice-cold beer tastes better after cycling all day.

Early results are promising.

This is the difficult side of running a cycling holiday company that nobody warns you about.

Kebab and Pide

Chios: bringing the story back to Greece

From Çeşme the journey crosses the Aegean again to Chios.

Chios gives us another completely different cycling landscape.

There are the famous mastic villages of the south, medieval settlements such as Mesta, quiet mountain roads, wild coastline and the much less visited north of the island around Volissos.

And again, the relationship with the Turkish coast is impossible to ignore.

At some points it feels ridiculously close.

That geographical connection is exactly what makes this journey work. You're not randomly visiting Greece, then Turkey, then Greece again.

You're travelling through one Aegean landscape divided by a modern border but connected by thousands of years of history.

The pretty village of Pyrgos

windmills of chios

Why I bother doing all this

Recon trips aren't just about finding pretty roads.

I'm looking for the things guests probably never realise I've checked.

Can our luggage vehicle reach the hotel?

Where can we safely load twenty bicycles?

Is there somewhere good for lunch halfway through the ride?

Does that ferry actually take the van and trailer?

Is the hotel bike-friendly?

Is the road busy at 10am?

Is there a decent alternative if the weather changes?

And perhaps most importantly:

Is there somewhere to get a cold beer at the end?

A cycling holiday is made up of dozens of little details. When they all work, nobody notices them.

Which is exactly how it should be.

And yes, I do occasionally have a holiday

Despite all this, there are moments when the laptop stays in the van.

There are swims.

There are long lunches.

There are evenings wandering around harbour towns.

There are beaches where absolutely no useful research whatsoever takes place.

Although even then I'll usually spot a cyclist disappearing along some little coastal road and think:

“I wonder where that goes…”

And five minutes later the phone is out again.

relaxing !!

The result: Across the Aegean

By the time the recon is finished, the plan is to have created something much more than a collection of cycling routes.

Across the Aegean will begin on Lesvos, cross to Ayvalık and Cunda, continue through Bergama and İzmir to Çeşme, sail back into Greece at Chios and finish with several days exploring one of the most fascinating islands in the eastern Aegean.

Three regions.

Two countries.

Several ferries.

Thousands of years of shared history.

And, if my research is accurate, an unreasonable quantity of excellent food.

That's why I combine my summer holidays with tour reconnaissance.

Partly because I want to know that the tours we offer actually work.

Partly because I love discovering new places by bike.

And partly because apparently I'm no longer capable of driving past an interesting road without wondering:

“Could we make a cycling tour out of that?”

The answer, more often than not, is yes — and that’s usually where the next adventure begins.